Partridge in a pear tree – the 1st day of Christmas

The first in an unrelated series of stories, inspired by the 12 days of Christmas; Day 1: Partridge in a pear tree

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a Partridge in a Pear Tree.

It’s Christmas, the day I am allowed to revert back to my childhood and get all excited for the day. A day to eat drink and open presents.

Or rather the one present that my true love has left for me.

It sits beneath the tree, a square package slightly smaller than a shoe box wrapped in red lustre paper with a gold bow. I pick it up. It’s heavy. Giving it a gentle shake it shifts in the box, the weight moving to one side. I look at the tag, it reads “partridge in a pear tree”, I glance over to my true love, she has a playful smile resting on her full lips. I watch, transfixed as her lips twitch and flex whilst emitting the words “go ahead, open it darling.”

I tear off the bow, and tentatively pull apart the paper, as I do so, my true love moves to stand with me. Paper aside, I am left holding a nondescript brown box.

“Open it darling” she purrs into my ear, her breath playing over my neck enticing a shiver to creep midway up my back.

I flip up the lid to reveal the contents inside. Moving aside a red crumbled sheet of crepe paper, I am greeted by a highly polished piece of metal.

In the centre is a small hand-sized mound of steel, framed on each side by a strip of 1 inch wide steel.

“Take it out, darling”

I remove the steel from the box. At the end of each metal strip is some black leather strapping, attached by 3 rivets in each side. The straps meet in a chunky buckle, from which hangs a third leather strap, connected directly to the steel mound by a single rivet. The leather seems soft and supple, and the steel is shiny and heavy. I lift it fully out of the box, holding it by the corner of the steel strips. Its form takes the shape of a grotesque jock-strap.

A little confused, I do so. Slightly conscious of the crisp winter sun shining through the windows, I try to show into the corner.

My true love takes the steel and leather contraption from my hands, and stoops to her knees. A sense of excitement rising at what might be forthcoming, I try to swallow my anticipation, and let out an audible gulp.

“hahhaha” she giggles; “not quite”.

After resting the steel on the floor, I feel her warm hands touch my lower legs, delicately, softly. She slowly slides them upwards, over the side of my knees and up over my thighs. The deftness of her touch causing ripples of goosebumps to spread accross my legs.

There’s a muted clang as she picks up the contraption. Again, she traces a path up my legs, this time with a single finger of a single hand. As the finger reaches the top of my leg, I feel one of balls involuntarily twitch. And suddenly both my balls are upped in her hand.

She lift my balls and my cock slightly with her left hand. her right hand brings the contraption closer. Slowly, carefully, she presses the cold steel against my manhood.

My cock recoils at the frigidity of the steel. The coldness penetrating through the wrinkled skin, and chilling them to the core. What had been anticipation and mild excitement had turned to shrivelled and cowering.

The juxtaposition of cold steel against the warmth of my true love’s hand on the underside of my balls was causing all manner of confusion for my testicles. My nervous system trying to make sense of both the warm and the cold sensations emanating from the same area.

It didn’t struggle for long since, with my cock now encased in the cold steel, my true love positioned my balls inside the steel cage too. The swift change from her warm hand to the chill of the steel sent further goosebumps crawling up my buttocks into the dip of my lower back.

“It fits well” my true love mutters “i knew it would”.

I could now feel the leather straps tickling around my knees, almost distracting from the cold of the steel pressing against my cock. My true love took my hand and placed it where my cock should have been. “hold that” she said.

With both hands now freed, my true love took the leather straps hanging either side of the steel, and passed them round behind me. She fastened the buckle. I felt the leather straps tighten around my hips. The top of the metal cage digging slightly into my pubic bone. Her hands fumble against the small of my back, as she fastens the buckle.

A moment later, I feel her hand pushing at the side of my knee, I cooperate by bending it out slightly. She reaches through and takes the final leather strap. Pulling the cage tight against my balls, the leather strap parts my buttock cheeks as she fastens it to the buckle.

Now that it’s fully fastened, there is less pressure on my pubic bone.

The contraption is snug, but not uncomfortable, well not yet anyway. The cage, an elongated and trapezoid shape contains my penis and balls sit in the scoop that ends just short of my perineum.

The tight feeling of being restrained was dizzying in its unexpectedness. The cold of the steel and the soft supple leather further assaulted my senses, and I felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through my chest towards my head.

My true love positions herself in front of me. Staring at the shiny steel casket containing my cock, she reaches forward and adjusts the lie of the leather over my hips. Her fingers brush my skin as she makes her adjustments.

The tickle is the final straw; one too many sensations. My knee gives way under the head rush and I fall forward into my true love. My heart bounds in my chest, the adrenaline still pumping. My true loves lets me slump to the floor.

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me a partridge in a pear tree